


Constructive Interference

by Morbane



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Consensual Mind Control, Constructive Criticism Welcome, F/M, Force Bond (Star Wars), Mind Games, Present Tense, Telepathy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-07
Updated: 2018-01-07
Packaged: 2019-03-01 21:14:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13303359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Morbane/pseuds/Morbane





	Constructive Interference

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ambiguously](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ambiguously/gifts).



Cloaked in persuasion, wearing the uniform of an officer of the First Order, Rey walks through the base at her normal gait, confident and assured. She grew up as a grain of sand against the vast backdrop of the desert, and learned, as she grew, to make herself even smaller - but that no longer comes easily. She had trouble, the last time a mission required her to shuffle her feet across the ground and lower her eyes.

For all her current poise, today requires a different kind of yielding.

She recognizes, without prompting, the redundant control station that is her target. It's in an alcove. She steps in close. No one should disturb her while she works. Her hands drift across the button bank and levers without landing, moving only for the sake of moving.

She closes her eyes, and opens her thoughts.

He comes flooding in as though she is a vacuum, as though she is pulling him. Not only to her mind - as his consciousness ripples through her body, touching on one nerve and then another, and as her consciousness follows his, she feels _full_. His awareness takes an irregular path, like a sphere rolling across a hundred subtly tilted planes. The slightest tension or relief is magnified. Her hands fall still and open.

He opens her eyes. 

She's tense, waiting to spring, but her tension is nothing but uncertainty. Rey's shoulders are lowered. Her wrists are relaxed. Her hands begin to move again.

Now she is the uniform an officer of the First Order is wearing. Ben and Rey, layer over layer. She imagines herself striped toward the core, a knife-slice revealing knife-sharp rings of bright and dark, such as might encircle a planet, but she still doesn't know what the centre of her contains....

... Yes, she does. That's Ben's thought, worked deeper into her consciousness than she'd expected he could go. All while he puppets her hands across a machine that could destroy the Rebellion - and won't, after he's done what she came to do.

She had expected that when Ben took over, choking the connection between her body and her will, she would feel numb. It's the opposite. With no physical outlet for her tension, her mind seizes on every twitch of muscle, every place where force - let alone the Force - interacts with her body. The slight pressure of recycled air directed down the corridor to the north. The force of _sounds_ within the space station. Her fingers wrapped around a lever, pressing a button. Even the light that strikes her eyes feels like a true impact.

She feels the uniform sleeve rustle across her arm. She feels her own hair tickle her own neck. She feels something - not quite a bead of sweat, smaller - slide down her thigh.

Ben uses Rey's body to huff a deliberately harsh breath. It startles her her out of the spiral of hyperawareness - she's no longer dancing on the head of a pin.

He finishes what he's doing. The display goes dark. The display will never light up again. 

He withdraws, but he doesn't leave. She knows he's still there, a silent rider, able to sense her relief as she shakes the phantom tension out of her shoulders. She turns and walks towards her ship, and it's only when she's safely away that she flings him out completely.

And flings herself after him.

Light-years away - and in the Force, no distance at all - her consciousness gathers itself into a point in front of him. Between him and the bars of the cage in which he has been locked for several days now.

Perhaps, during his time in her mind, he has already picked that lock. Even if he hasn't, she knows he wants much more from her than his own freedom.

He opens his own eyes, and she catches his gaze; he sees her, where only one sensitive to the Force would see anything at all.

She could simply tell him. She tells herself it's practice and control, how she can slide into his lungs, his jaw, to make him open his mouth and call out the pass code only she knows.

The lock opens. The bargain is concluded.

"Stay," they say, both of them together, his challenge to her, her challenge to him, her voice in his mouth. For a moment it's Ben who's the void, fleeing so completely into the edges of awareness that Rey can only feel a body, a body that needs an occupant, a body that answers her.

Ben only falls to his knees when she untangles herself. Then he rights himself, and passes through the open door. He walks as though he knows she's watching him. She gives him that satisfaction alone.


End file.
